


I Trust You

by softenderys



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Break Up, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 06:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softenderys/pseuds/softenderys
Summary: “Can you please come and get me?”Those are the first words Kunhang hears from Dejun after 5 years.





	I Trust You

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in 4 hours of boredom with hardly beta-ed so enjoy!

“Can you please come and get me?”

Those are the first words Kunhang hears from Dejun after 5 years. Dejun’s voice is quiet and solemn, heavy in weight. The sound of rain could be heard from the background, pattering against concrete pavement filling up the silence from the other line. He feels his heart clench, breath shaky in disbelief.

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Dejun before he speaks, “No, nevermind, sorry — ”

“Dejun.”

There’s a pause again. But this time instead of silence, Kunhang could make out heavy breathing and sniffles — is he crying? — along with some rustlings. For a moment none of them says anything; Kunhang is confused and clueless of what to do and Dejun isn’t so cooperative. Kunhang shifts in his seat.

“Where are you?”

“At the bus stop near your house.”

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes.”

Kunhang hangs up the call and bolts outside the house. He couldn’t help the memories replaying in his head as he steps out into the rain with an umbrella and a raincoat. He remembers how it’s like to hear Dejun’s voice next to him, hand in hand as they walked in the rain without an umbrella because they wanted to; clothes wet while the rain freezes their bones. But they kissed as if nobody’s around. Kunhang remembers how it feels like to cradle his face that evening, wet but warm in his hands as they shared the same kiss; soft and inviting.

Everything used to be so easy.

But Kunhang could only dream of it now. And the dreams became more vivid as he approached the figure hunched over the bus stop, head hanging low and obscuring his pretty pair of brown eyes which Kunhang knew hold the entire universe. He couldn’t see his face even when he’s neared, but it was definitely Dejun — he was wearing one of his favorite pair of hoodie, now drenched and soaked in rain.

“Dejun.” Kunhang calls him out, voice barely a whisper. He’s five feet away from him, not daring to come close unless Dejun says so.

Space; it was one of the reasons they split. Kunhang had no concept of personal space, had no concept of emotional space — at least that’s what Dejun said. Kunhang couldn’t understand it at first, even denied the claims but Dejun was having nothing of it. He left Kunhang hanging when they broke up but Kunhang has never been mad at him. He couldn’t.

The other reason, much to his disdain though, was Dejun had someone else. Someone better than him, that’s for sure. But Kunhang didn’t hold any grudge. He shouldn’t anyway; it’s not good for his mental health. 

Dejun looks up at him, face bleary and eyes red. There’s a steady stream of tears running down his cheeks and Kunhang wants to wipe them off, kissing his whole face and reminding him he’s loved and appreciated. He wants to tell him how much he’s loved him and still does; how much time he’s spent trying to forget about him only to come back at his photos locked somewhere in a folder inside his phone.

But he couldn’t. Dejun wouldn’t allow him.

Kunhang gives a small smile as he sits next to him, offering the raincoat. Dejun takes it without much hesitation before putting it on himself.

“Let’s go.” Kunhang motions to the path he’s came from, where dim lights light up the pathway and leads back to his apartment. Dejun stands with him and pressing close as they get under the umbrella. The walk home is quiet, but Kunhang tries not to pressure Dejun with small talks. Kunhang lets him holds onto the sleeve of his shirt as they walk.

Dejun stands rigid at the aisle, vaguely registering the sound of Kunhang closing the door behind them. An odd wave of familiarity floods his senses but he keeps quiet. Kunhang motions him into the guest room. He has perfect memories of the place so he doesn’t need much help. Both him and Kunhang knows that. 

“You can use the shower. I’ll get some clothes for you.” Kunhang stops mid-sentence as he looks at Dejun again. Dejun has an unreadable expression on his face. “Your clothes...would fit you perfectly.” And he’s gone.

Dejun’s left some of his clothes behind; sure he’s taken them with him when he left, but there were still some pieces left behind. Kunhang kept them safe in a box. There isn’t much anyway, just a couple pairs of hoodies and pants. Taking them out again after three years feels odd. Three years because he spent the first two years grieving over his lost, slumping into a pit of darkness and an endless wave of self-accusing and depression. It wasn’t until after he seeked professional help when he could finally move on. He even keeps the notes Dejun used to write for him and all the gifts he’d gotten in the same box. 

Keeping Dejun’s things around helped him in an odd way, ironically.

Kunhang tries to help him as much as he could. He doesn’t want to ask him any questions. Not even a ‘what happened’ or ‘why me’. He doesn’t deserve that. If anything Kunhang has learnt from his past relationship with Dejun was to give him space and time, let him think until he speaks for himself. It’s not worth it to push his buttons like he used to do, not when Dejun is seeking his help.

There must be a reason why he was called, but Kunhang isn’t about to find out tonight. If Dejun isn’t ready to speak about it — probably never will be — then he wouldn’t ask about it even as his heart clenches in pain upon seeing the tired face of the only man he loves.

“You should get some rest. Call me if you need anything.” Kunhang says as he leans near the door, ready to shut it for Dejun and lets him sleep. Dejun still has an empty look on his face, looking directly into his phone. At least he’s stopped crying after the small meal Kunhang made. Now he’s just silent.

Kunhang certainly doesn’t expect to be called out again so soon, though. 

“Kunhang.”

“Yes?”

“I could use a hug.”

Kunhang doesn’t think about it; to hell with the consequences and what could come after. He drapes his arms around Dejun, holding him close against his chest and letting him rest his head on his shoulder. His heart thumps loudly in his chest and he’s certain Dejun could hear it but he doesn’t back away. If anything Dejun is wrapping his arms around Kunhang too, pulling him close and leaning in to take the familiar scent from 5 years ago.

Dejun’s breath is heavy, broken and uneven despite having Kunhang so close and holding him so tight. Kunhang missed him so much, could feel the tears brimming in his own eyes but he wills himself to stay calm. He could feel Dejun snuggling closer by the minute in pursuit of more warmth. It’s painful yet comforting to stay this close, and Kunhang is certain he isn’t the only one feeling that way.

“Kunhang.” God, Kunhang wishes he could drown in Dejun’s voice again. All day long. Kunhang couldn’t help it, not when Dejun is clenching on his shirt and voice close to breaking again. “ _ Wong Kunhang. _ ”

“Yes. Yes, I’m here.”  _ My love, I’m always here. _

“I’m tired.” Dejun sucks in a breath. “I’m tired of love. I’m tired of life. I’m tired of _ everything _ .” His voice breaks the tighter Kunhang holds him. “I’m tired of living. Nothing is right anymore. Nobody loves me.”

“That’s not true — ”

“Nobody cares about me.”

“Dejun, that’s not — ”

“I don’t want to live anymore. Can you please just kill me?”

Kunhang’s eyes bulge in disbelief as he looks straight into the depths of Dejun’s irises. His eyes are dark and swollen, totally void of emotion. No tears came out of him but ironically Kunhang feels wetness trickle down his own cheeks and wetting his own lips.

_ “Kunhang, won’t you do it?” _

Kunhang is speechless upon seeing the marks on Dejun’s throat, circling his little neck like a choker and a constant reminder. It looks fresh. Kunhang pulls up his sleeves and sure enough there were knife marks everywhere.

“Dejun, what are these?”

Dejun snaps him away. “Kunhang, just kill me.  _ Please _ .”

No. This is not right. The Xiao Dejun he knew has never acted this way.  _ Never. _

“Dejun, this isn’t you. Listen, I’m not going to kill you — ”

“Why not?!” Dejun snaps. “There’s no reason to live anymore. My parents hate me. I keep failing at my job and my fiance...my fiance…”

_ So Dejun was going to marry the man… _

“He...he left me. He left us.”

And there are tears in his eyes again, streaming down his cheeks. Kunhang wants to hold him again but he has no courage to do it. He opts for wiping the tears on Dejun’s cheeks instead. 

Dejun doesn’t stop. He lets his feelings flow and Kunhang doesn’t stop him either. Dejun has his hands on his shirt as he buries his head in his chest.

“We were going to get married in two months, Kunhang. But he…” Dejun trembles in his arms. “It’s a hit-and-run. Nobody saw it because it was at night. He was found dead a few hours after. Kunhang, if I had called, he could’ve — ”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Kunhang interrupts while Dejun is still shaking in his grip. “You can’t change what happened. I’m sure your fiance would want you to continue with your life. He’d hate to see you like this.”

“But what’s the point?” Dejun mumbles. “What’s the point if he’s no longer with me?”

Kunhang feels his chest constricts. He’s felt this way before when Dejun broke up with him, but that was long ago and he’s never had any suicidal tendencies. It’s terrifying to see the man he once loved breaking in front of him.

And he still loves him. He loves Dejun with all his heart; would never trade him for anything in this world. Maybe he could take the risk, takes a leap of faith and see if Dejun would catch him again.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d have him back, rightfully in his arms.

“I’m here.” Kunhang pauses to observe Dejun’s expression. “With you.”

Dejun has an unreadable expression. Kunhang feels the need to turn and look away, thinking it was a bad idea but the other half of him is begging for him to do this. He’d been wanting this; for Dejun to be back in his arms and loves him again.

But Dejun is chuckling as he shifts his position on the bed. Kunhang lets his arms fall on his side instead, silently observing.

“This is odd. I thought you wouldn’t care about me anymore, that’s why I called you. It’s been 5 years.”

“It has.” Kunhang nods. “But that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

“Bullshit. We didn’t talk for 5 years. How do you — ”

“I’m not lying.”

Dejun stops talking. He knows Kunhang never tells him any lies; always so truthful and honest no matter what he’s doing or what he’s saying. Sure, he’s had white lies in the past but he’s never lied to Dejun, at least not about his feelings.

Dejun places his hand on Kunhang’s chest, where his heartbeat is most prominent.

Kunhang  _ is  _ telling the truth.

“You waited.” Dejun’s voice is quiet. “Why?”

“I didn’t wait. I live.”

Dejun is looking at him again, with the same unreadable expression. Kunhang suddenly has the urge to kiss him to prove his words but he remains still. Or tries to. Dejun still has a hand against his chest, silently counting his heartbeat. 

“Okay.” Dejun finally says while retrieving his hand. “I trust you.”

Kunhang has never felt more alive than he does now. And he’s grateful,  _ grateful _ to have Dejun back with him, even if it’s not in his arms like they used to be.

Kunhang is just glad to have Dejun back in his life and the only price he has to pay is his fiance.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll leave the ending to your own interpretation!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/softenderys)  
[curiouscat](curiouscat.me/tens_fingers)


End file.
